


Showtime

by intothecest



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, No Smut, Post-Gravity Falls, Sequels always suck, Sibling Incest, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Valentine's Day, pinecest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 04:25:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothecest/pseuds/intothecest
Summary: While Mabel's at a school Valentine's Dance with a guy, Dipper pines at home... but then is surprised as his sister returns early, and is into his plans for an Anti-Valentine's Day monster movie marathon.





	Showtime

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Showtime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765186) although can be read as a standalone.

Dipper lay on the bed, earbuds in his ears, listening to music and staring at the ceiling. Valentine’s Day _sucked_. If you weren’t happily dating somebody, it was the _worst_ holiday of the year. What idiot had the bright idea of creating a holiday that just rubs it in the faces of everybody who can’t participate? The people who are already feeling bad because of that? _They’re_ the ones who need cheering up with a holiday. The ones who are alone.

Dipper was alone, both in the romantic sense, and in the physical sense. His parents had gone out on a date night to some fancy restaurant, and Mabel…

Well, Mabel was the problem, wasn’t she? She was at the school Valentine’s Dance that had started about half an hour earlier, escorted by Alex with the suddenly punchworthy face. Not that any punches happened to that face... Alex hadn’t done anything actually _wrong_ except ask Dipper's twin sister to the dance. The real problem was deeper, that he wanted to be with the one with her. Valentine’s Day sucks for people who are alone, but it sucks worse for the people who know someone’s perfect for them but that it’s _never_ going to happen. 

When in doubt, drown it out. That’s why he was listening to music. Not mushy stuff, loud, angry stuff, stuff that would make him forget the stupid holiday at least for a while. That was the theory, anyway. In practice, no matter how intense the music got, he couldn’t stop imagining Mabel slow-dancing with Alex, leaning in and puckering up her lips for a kiss… _ugh_. And of course _he’d_ kiss her back, who wouldn’t? They’d probably be boyfriend and girlfriend by now, then before long they’d be…

Something hit his face, and even though it was soft, it freaked him right the hell out, because when you believe you’re totally alone in the house, nothing should touch your face that you're not exspecting. He flailed in surprise, and his arm knocked the earbud from one ear as he groped for what had hit him, and then looked to his door.

There was his sister Mabel, dressed in a pretty dress, somewhere between pink and white. He’d hit him with a little fabric bow she put in her hair, crumpled into a ball. “Mabel… w…what?" He hit the button on his phone to turn the music off, and tugged the other earbud from his ear.

"I didn’t _miss_ it, right?”

 _Miss it?_ “Mabel, you’re supposed to be at the dance… what happened?" 

She puffed out her cheeks and then thrust out her lower lip and exhaled, blowing a lock of hair upwards for a moment. "Nothing.”

“Did Alex… do something?" If so, on Monday there’d be a new set of soulmates… fist finally meets punchable face. A love story for the ages. Just a little late for Valentine’s Day. 

"No. I mean it, _nothing_ happened. Literally. We had like, _one_ dance. Then he hung out with his friends, and, like, basically ignored me.”

Dipper resisted the urge to ask if it was a fast dance or a slow dance. Mabel’s dancing style for fast-dances weaved back and forth along the line between “highly energetic but stylish” and “moves that make you think she’s possessed by a demon." Well, that wasn’t fair to demons, Dipper suddenly remembered… his sister actually _was_ possessed by a dance demon once in Gravity Falls, and he had to admit she looked _spectacular_ that night (much better than when it jumped into him)… so maybe the line was between "highly energetic but stylish” and “flailing around like there was a ghost squirrel running around under your clothes." Which had _also_ happened once in Gravity Falls, but that had happened to Dipper, and it wasn’t set to music. Which side of the line Mabel’s dancing fell on depended on the song and her level of excitement. A guy like Alex might be concerned with appearances and get freaked out and pull away if Mabel was having a bad dance day. 

But then, the dance only started half an hour ago… given how long it would take to get home…. "Didn’t the dance _just_ start? Maybe he was just checking in with his friends, saying hi?" Why was he defending him? he wondered. Who was he to stand between his fist and Alex’s face’s destiny to be together?

Mabel shrugged. "He sees his friends all the time. He asked _me_ out, he should want to be with _me_." But her eyes slid to the side, and her face was a little glum, and he had a feeling there was more to it… not a lot, maybe not anything that could even be explained in words, but _something_. Maybe she sensed her date was hung up on Lucy. Dipper had heard Alex had asked her out first and struck out, he just didn’t think it would be a problem… after all, Mabel had never mentioned _Alex_ among the boys she liked before he asked her, either. "Anyway, I figured, I could wait around all night for him to _maybe_ decide he wants to slow dance with me, or I can catch this epic monster movie marathon you said you were having." She shrugged, a bit of a smile creeping into her lips. "I know which one sounds more fun to me. So I didn’t miss it, did I? Showtime?”

“I don’t see anything playing…” Dipper pointed out. His laptop was closed on his desk. And there was hardly time to go through a whole movie in the hour or so he’d been home. Except maybe…

“ _The Monster File Chronicle Archives_ are only twenty minutes each,” Mabel pointed out, like she was reading his mind. “And, maybe you’re just taking a break. How should I know?”

“Well, I hadn’t started yet.”

She took a few steps into his room. “So, what’s on the schedule, Mr. Brotato-Head?”

“Mr. Brotato-Head?” He’d normally let Mabel’s weird nicknames for him slide, but he hadn’t actually come up with a movie schedule and asking her about the name let him stall for time. 

She smiled. “I’m trying it out. What do you think?”

“Uh… no." He was worried his head was overlarge and misshapen enough as it was… every time he looked in the mirror he stared at it.

"How about Pillsbury Bro-Boy?”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“Of course not. You’re _very_ buff and give a hearty, manly, chuckle when you’re poked in the stomach." She said, and rolled her eyes with obvious amusement. "Don’t be so sensitive, Bro-boat." That didn’t get a reaction. "Bro-zen Yogurt? My Bro-setta Stone?”

Finally he smiled… he knew what she was doing… being silly just to cheer him up. And it worked. And he _liked_ the last one. Maybe because she started it with _“My."_ "You’re such a dork.”

“You love it.”

He did. It wasn’t true that Mabel didn’t care what others thought… she did, but, unlike Dipper, she never let that stop her. So, sometimes she was a straight up dork and let everyone see. It was one of the things he most admired about her. “Did you cut out of the dance just to cheer me up?”

“Well…. Alex really was being a jerk, but… maybe I didn’t _HAVE_ to leave so early. But I just couldn’t stand the thought of you spending your Valentine’s Day alone moping. And monster movies with you sounded better than dancing with a guy who probably doesn’t even like me." She brightened, and said, "So, when’s showtime?”

He sat up, reached for his laptop, and opened it up on his lap. “Whenever you want. I hadn’t actually decided on what to watch, though.”

She rushed to the side of his bed and leaned over to watch as he called up the streaming video site’s list of available monster movies. “Ooh… How about _Plush Apocalypse II_?" She put on a phony movie narrator voice. ”‘The good news is, you’re invited to the Teddy Bear Picnic… the bad news is, you’re the main course.’“

"No way, you couldn’t even finish _Plush Apocalypse_ one… you made me sleep with your stuffed animals for a week because you were too scared but you didn’t want to leave them alone.”

She scoffed. “We were twelve, and, anyway, I wasn’t _scared_ of them. That was for _your_ protection, Dipper,” she insisted. “If an evil wizard _did_ bring all the stuffed animals to life, I’m pretty sure all _my_ guys would be on the good side." Her voice lowered to a whisper as her eyes fell on the sock-monkey that hung from his closet door. "It’s _him_ I don’t trust. Look at him, just staring at us. He’s planning something.”

He shook his head with a grin. “No _Plush Apocalypse_. And no sequels. Sequels always suck. We should start off with something light and cheesy." He pointed to the screen. "How about _Marauding Monotremes of Minneapolis_!?”

Her eyes widened at the image of the poster. “A giant platypus, stomping through America’s 47th largest city? I’m intrigued! Load it up. And scootch over." He made space for her, and she sat beside him. On his single bed, that didn’t leave much room, they had to be shoulder-to-shoulder, but he didn’t mind. He pressed play, and the opening credits rolled. Without words, they settled in to a mostly laying position, Dipper’s head propped up on a pillow, Mabel’s head on his shoulder. It was comfortable. And she smelled incredible. She didn’t even wear perfume, though her hair had the faint scent of some kind of fruit. "Wait,” Mabel said. “Dipper. We have to stop. This is _wrong_.”

Oh no. Had he inhaled too loud or too long? “W… what?" 

"We’re forgetting something… snacks!" She looked into his eyes, her own glistening, and grinned. "We need snacks! Pause it and I’ll run downstairs.”

He did pause it, but then remembered. “Oh, I… uh, actually got that covered." He slid out from underneath the laptop, and, from his desk, he retrieved a heart-shaped pink box. "They were, like, on sale." Well, they were _FOR_ sale. One wrong word wasn’t a _big_ lie, was it?

Her smile brightened the room as he handed her the box, and she saw what they are. "Ooh, these are my favorite!”

He got back in bed beside her, and once again put the laptop on his belly while Mabel opened the box. She took a chocolate, took a bite out of the side, and then sucked out the cherry inside, holding it in her lips a moment with a grin before devouring it. It was somehow the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Then she offered him the remaining empty shell of chocolate. He took it. “Thanks, Mabel." The chocolate went into his own mouth, just a hint of cherry flavor, and, he imagined, the hint of the taste of Mabel’s lips. He could settle for that, if he had to. "And thanks for ditching the dance to keep me company.”

“No thanks necessary. I’m glad I did. You’re already showing me a better time than Alex. Shoulda just asked _you_ to be my Valentine all along." The words made him stiffen up. She _had_ to have meant that innocently, right? Her elbow nudged his side. "Come on, start the movie already,” she whispered. 

The hopeful but impossible thought fled, and he relaxed, with only the usual minor disappointment, mixed with relief. Relief because he didn’t know what he was supposed to do if it turned out Mabel had some of the same feelings as him, it would automatically get messy. And disappointment because that knowledge didn’t stop him from wishing it. But it didn’t matter, because he'd decided it had to be meant innocently. The phrase “be my Valentine” didn’t have to be romantic… he’d gotten enough cards over the years that said that from girls who weren’t really interested in him to hammer _that_ lesson home. When you asked someone to 'be my Valentine’, you didn’t necessarily mean that it was a person who made your heart flutter, it could just mean the person you liked, or, in this case, chose to spend the holiday with. That’s all she meant, that they were just enjoying a brother-sister Valentine’s Night of Monster Movies. There were worse ways to spend the holiday. He pressed play. “Showtime." 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Continues in [Curtain Call](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787020).


End file.
